Vicious Creatures
by ScaryBones
Summary: Guard dogs, jumping through windows, stitching up wounds; just an average day for two mercenaries.


**Greg and Chris, an adventure, guard dogs, injuries, just what I like. :}**

**XXXXX**

"What a lovely home, Mrs. DeChamp!" Gregory exclaimed, looking around the huge house. It could have been a mansion, based on the inside.

"You like?" the middle-aged woman asked. "Well, please seet down and I'll go get us some drinks, non?"

"Wouldn't it be nice to live in a home like this, Chris?" Gregory asked his boyfriend and partner.

"Try to stay on ze mission, eh, Gregory?" the mercenary replied. "We are s'posed to be looking for somzhing, remember?"

"I know, I know," the Brit said. "But can't I admire a house? I mean, this place is amazing!"

"_J'aime nous maison_," the French man replied. "It eez much cozier."

"It's just an apartment, Chris," Gregory said, looking along the bookcases that lined the walls of the sitting room. "It's not really co-"

"What?" Christophe stood, and Gregory pulled out a manilla folder from the bookcase.

"We've got it," Gregory said, and rushed over to the french boy. "Quick, hide it in your shirt!"

The mercenary shoved the folder down his shirt as Mrs. DeChamp came back intot the room, a tray in hand.

" 'ere you are, boys," she said cheerfully.

"Merci beaucoup!" the blond said, taking a cup of tea from the tray.

His brunette companion just sat back down in his chair, trying to send signals to Gregory that they should leave now. But apparently, Gregory was too fascinated by the lovely furniture to recieve any mental signals.

Suddenly, a German Shepard entered the room, going toward Mrs. DeChamp.

Christophe's eyes widened immediatly, and Gregory saw.

"Oh, mon pet!" the oldish woman cried out, stroking her dog's head lovingly. "Zis eez Fido. I've had him since he was a petit puppy."

Gregory noticed that Christophe had stood, and was now standing behind the chair he had been sitting in. The brunette eyed the dog cautiously, scowling at it.

"Oh, what eez ze matter? Are you allergic?"

As soon as the woman spoke, the dog realized there were others in the room. Immediatly, he rushed toward Christophe, waging his tail as he jumped the chair with ease.

The brunette's eyes widened and he dove out of the way.

"Control zhat mutt!" he yelled, scrambling up and moving out of Fido's reach as the big dog jumped again.

Gregory was torn in deciding to laugh or to sigh. "Please, Madam, he's terribly afraid of-"

"I am _nut_ afraid," Christophe interrupted. "I just do nut like ze dogs." The mercenary reached Gregory and grabbed his shoulders, using the blond as a shield.

The dog continued until it reached them both, but stopped in front of Gregory, sitting and wagging his tail as he panted.

The blond laughed and bent down to pet Fido. "Oh, you're such a cute dog."

"Cute? Zhat thing tried to attack moi!"

"It wanted you to pet it, Christophe."

"Zhat's what you zhink!"

"Oh, it's alright, gentlemen," Mrs. DeChamp said, grabbing Fido by his collar. "I can take him out if he's a bother."

"Good riddance."

The woman was almost out the door with her dog, but she stopped suddenly, her eyes on the bookcase. The _same spot _Gregory had found the manilla folder.

"Um, _excuse me_, but, where did you say you were from?" the woman asked, tightening her grip on Fido.

"Oh, _sheet_."

"_Attack_!"

She released her grip on the dog, who, at the sound of that word, started growling and jumped toward the two boys.

"Run!" Christophe grabbed Gregory's arm, jumping up onto the couch and running across it, leaping off the end and successfully jumping over Fido, who snapped at them.

"Which way do we go?" Gregory asked, still being tugged along by his partner, who looked as if _he_ had no idea where to go either. But the dog was catching up to them, so Christophe took off running down a hallway.

"Sheet." It was a deadend, the only reason for it being there was to look out a set of giant windowed. Still, he ran down the hall, looking out the huge panes while seeing if there was anything he could use to fight off the vicious creature.

Then he saw it outside: a pool.

"Aim for ze water."

"What?"

Christophe answered Gregory short question by leaping for the window, still holding tightly to the blond, breaking the glass and falling downward. He let go of Gregory, who glared. "I fucking hate you!" It was only a second later that they hit the water.

Christophe was the first up, and cursed himself. "Sheet, ze folder!"

He tugged it out of his shirt, holding it high above the water, not that it mattered. The file was completely soaked.

He climbed out of the pool, catching his breath. "Gregory!"

Preparing to jump back into the water, he froze when he saw a blond head pop up to the surface. The brunette breathed a sigh of relief, grabbing Gregory's outstretched arm and hoisting him out of the water.

"I fucking hate you."

"Je t'aime aussi."

"Let's get out of here, Chris," Gregory panted, and the french mercenary could see the tiredness in his eyes.

"Oui."

The two ran across the huge lawn, dove through the hedges, and scrambled onto their motorcycle, Christophe handing his lover the folder.

"It's wet!"

"What did you expect?"

"Go, Chris!"

They could hear a pack of dogs coming their way, and some shouts and yells.

Christophe started the bike and they took off down the long driveway. Gregory gripped the brunette's waist as they increased their speed, noting that the gate at the end of the driveway was closing.

"We're not going to make it, Chris!" Gregory shouted. "Find another way out!"

But the mercenary only sped up, and they barely made it out, the gate hitting the end of the bike, sending both men flying off it.

"Oh! _Fucking sheet!"_ Christophe cried out, clutching his wrist. Gregory's eyes widened, seeing that the other's hand was clearly broken. "Come on, we 'ave to get out of 'ere."

They both heaved the bike to standing postion and got back on, Christophe quickly starting the engine. "Wait, the folder!"

"Where eez eet?"

"There!" Gregory jumped off the bike, running toward the the yellowish colored folder that was the whole point of the mission. He grabbed it and stared running back.

Suddenly, a shot rang out, and Gregory stumbled, blood starting to pour from his leg. "Fuck!"

The brunette drove the bike to where the blond had fallen and hoisted him up, throwing him onto his lap. " 'Ang on to ze folder."

He sped down the road, more shots being fired behind them, and cursed as one grazed his shoulder.

"Chris, we need to get somewhere fast," said the blond laying across his lap. "I'm losing too much blood."

Desperately, Christophe kept increasing the speed, turning off the road and into the deserted landscape. "Do nut worry, _mon cher_."

After driving for a few minutes, heading for complete nowhere, Christophe slowed the bike, jumping off before it even came to a stop.

Gregory landed with a thump on the hard ground, but immediatly went to work on his wound, throwing his pants off and tying them around his leg. "Are you hurt badly, Chris? Let me see your hand."

"Non, eet eez fine, 'ow eez your leg."

"It'll be fine for now, but I have to see your hand."

Growling, the brunette held out his arm.

"Yep, it's broken," the blond said. "And you've been shot!"

Gregory quickly and expertly removed Christophe's shirt, and studied the bullet wound.

"I see no bullet in there, but you'll need stitches."

"Later."

"Fine, whatever, I'm too tired to do anything right now anyway."

"Mais, what 'bout ze bullet in your leg?"

"I'll deal with it later."

"Non, mon amour, I'll take care of eet for you."

Gregory moaned in pain as Christophe dug through his wound, searching for the bullet with his knife. "Pour some alcohol onto it, Chris, I- oh, damn, it stings! I don't want an infection."

The mercenary followed the blond's instructions (for once) and Gregory moaned and squirmed as the liquid seeped into his leg.

"Alright, while you're digging in there, I'll stitch you up."

So the two worked on each other, christophe finally getting the bullet out and Gregory sewing them both up and putting Christophe's hand into a makeshift cast and sling.

They got a hotel for the night in the next town and slept until the late afternoon the next day, drying the folder in front of fan the whole time.

"Well, this has been some adventure," Gregory commented as they wereheading back to South Park, where they would keep the file until their 'boss' could pick it up.

"Oui, just as I like eet."

"We were almost killed!"

"Exactly."

**XXXXX**

**Needed to get them out of my head! I've been thinking about them for a while now, and I thought I they'd just go away by themselves, but apparently I had to write a one-shot before they'd leave.** **XD **

**Hope you enjoyed! Review if you want!**


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